


IDGAF

by d_rose



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-02 03:12:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17879990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/d_rose/pseuds/d_rose
Summary: Song fic with inspiration from IDGAF by Dua Lipa.Dean didn’t needthe one, but he certainly neededsomeone, even if that someone was just for a quickie in the bathroom at a club.





	IDGAF

_You call me all friendly telling me how much you miss me._  
That's funny, I guess you've heard my songs.  
Well I'm too busy for your business, go find a girl who wants to listen.  
Cause if you think I was born yesterday you have got me wrong. 

“This is my song!” Castiel exclaimed over the music, pointing to the ceiling where generally the music was coming from. 

“Yes I know, darling,” Balthazar purred, his lips attaching to his glass, ember liquid sliding into his mouth.

Castiel had spent almost every night for the past month in bed with his ratty Yale sweatshirt that used to be his mother's; and now he was sitting on an uncomfortable faux leather sofa at the only gay club within a reasonable distance to their apartment, sipping his fourth vodka tonic, wondering why the hell he and Bal hadn't done this before. 

Besides the uncomfortably loud music, sea of sweaty bodies, and hard sofa, it wasn't anywhere near as bad as he expected. Here Castiel was, wishing he had allowed himself to do something fun sooner instead of feeling bad for himself in bed surrounded by half drank cups of coffee and discarded take out boxes from the Chinese restaurant below their apartment that didn't deliver; but then suddenly started delivering to his apartment the day after Meg told him it was over despite Castiel never actually ordering the seemingly endless amount of spring rolls. A shower, a pair of pants that didn't have an elastic waist, and a stomach full of vodka was enough to make Castiel feel human again. 

Across the club sat Dean, a grimace on his face, a whiskey neat in his hand, and a bubbly redhead perched next to him, talking animatedly. 

“Why did you even come out if you’re just going to sit there like that?” Charlie whined, tilting her head with attitude.

“I couldn’t stand seeing the lovebirds for another second,” Dean snorted. Sam and Jess, despite being married for over 10 years still acted like they were in the honeymoon phase; they were as sweet on each other as ever. It disgusted Dean as much as it disgusted their two daughters. When Sam and Jess would kiss in front of them, the girls used to giggle and yell “ew”, but this visit Dean taught them to say “get a room”, which earned one of Sam’s deadly glares every time as he tried to correct Dean’s bad influence.

“I hope Dorothy and I are still that in love years from now,” Charlie said with a sigh and an aimless twirl of her straw, her drink practically untouched.

Dean scoffed, “Shut up, you two are a match made in heaven- or hell,” Charlie smacked her friend in the chest before laughing maniacally. 

“Maybe one day you’ll find the one,” she poked her tongue out at him as he rolled his eyes.

Dean didn’t need the one, he had his son Ben, his brother, his few close friends. He didn’t need anyone else. Dean was content. He worked, brought Ben home from karate or soccer or whatever after school activity the kid was into on that particular day. He had star trek marathons with Charlie, and went out with Benny on the weekends he didn’t have Ben. Dean most certainly didn’t need the one. He occasionally needed someone- in his bed at the end of the night, but definitely not the one.

“I just need right now,” Dean smirked before lifting his empty glass, “and a refill.” Dean stood up to head towards the bar, leaving behind his friend. He pretended like he didn’t see her sneak a look at her phone, smiling softly to herself. Dean was truly happy for Charlie and her girlfriend Dorothy. Charlie and Dean had been best friends for decades, and over the years he felt proud to have seen her grow and become the outgoing, hilarious, computer programmer that she was- a massive transformation from the shy girl who only spoke in class when directly spoken to, hiding from everyone behind her book of the week.

Castiel suddenly jumped out of his seat, and exclaimed, “Let’s dance, shall we?” to his roommate. He took a long sip from his straw, only leaving behind ice in the glass. "Doesn't this song make you want to dance?"

“Cassie, I’ve never seen you dance before,” Balthazar laughed, downing his drink and setting it on the table.

“Well you’re about t-” Castiel laughed, twirling around once before slamming into a couple people that he was unaware were behind him. He barely even registered Balthazar shout a warning when he felt his shirt soaked and heard the shattering of a glass. His hands went to cover his open mouth, an apology already escaped his lips before even looking at the person he smashed into.

“Shit!” He heard a man exclaim, wiping his wet hand on his denim pant leg. 

“I, I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you,” Castiel fumbled over his words, the apology streaming out of him uncontrollably. He finally was able to pull his eyes away from the broken glass on the floor and his eyes gazed upward, seeing the wetness on the man’s shirt, making it desperately cling to his skin, outlining his toned chest.

“It’s fine, really,” the man said amused, almost chuckling; his emerald eyes scanning Castiel for damage. “Maybe you can buy me another,” he said smoothly, a smirk pulling his mouth to reveal a smile of perfect, pearly teeth. 

“Yes, it’s the least I can do. Oh, shit you’re bleeding,” Castiel said after he caught sight of the trail of red on the man’s hand. “Come with me,” he grabbed him around the wrist and dragged him through the crowded bar to the men’s room. He shoved past another man standing at the sink to yank a few paper towels out of the dispenser and turned on the sink faucet. He apologized again as he gently dabbed the towel against his skin.

The green eyed man leaning up against the sink counter top as the man with dark messy hair tended to the small incision. “You a doctor?” He asked.

Castiel looked up and squinted his eyes, and slightly tilted his head before saying, “No, I’m a historian.”

Dean swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat when he was exposed to the other man’s crystalline blue eyes; the bright light in the bathroom allowed him to get a better look at who was gently caring for his minor injury. “Well you swooped in to tend to this,” he moved his hand slightly, “so I just thought,” he shrugged and shut his mouth.

“You were injured because of my actions,” he pulled the paper towel away, satisfied that the wound was no longer bleeding. “Perhaps I overreacted when I saw blood,” he discarded the paper towel and washed his hands.

The other man laughed and inspected his hand, there was a small cut where the glass broke skin, but it was surely going to heal quickly. “Dean,” he extended his other hand out to the other man, who shook it after he finished drying his hands.

“Castiel.”

“Maybe you should consider a career change, Castiel,” Dean said with a small smile, “You make a great doctor.”

Castiel huffed out a laugh and peered into the mirror thoughtfully, “A doctor's coat and a stethoscope would suit me.” 

“I didn’t think you could possibly get more hot, but,” Dean shook his head and scoffed, “a doctor’s coat might do it.”

Castiel’s cheeks flushed red and he glanced at the floor nervously, it had been years since he had flirted with someone other than his former girlfriend; he really didn’t know what to say. “I, uh, I would give you a full examination, not just your hand.”

Dean smirked, “Is that so?” He asked, leaning in closer to Castiel, who nodded. “Then I’d like to schedule an appointment.” He leaned in closer, his mouth inches away from Castiel’s ear, breathing hot on his neck. Castiel produced a small groan and felt his pants tighten slightly at the near contact; he hadn’t been intimate with anyone- not even himself- after Meg left him.

“Do you want to come back to my place?” Castiel asked quickly.

“You still owe me a drink,” Dean teased, pushing his lips closer so they ever so slightly brushed just below Castiel’s ear. 

“There’s liquor at my apartment- I think,” Castiel said, suddenly unable to think straight, all he could think about was needing Dean’s lips to make more contact.

Dean paused a moment, debating, before he moved his lips against Castiel’s skin, “As much as I want to- and I _really_ want to, I shouldn’t leave my friend.”

Castiel nodded, dejected and unwanted; and said, “I understand.” He began to move away but was stopped by Dean’s hands firmly planting themselves on his hips. 

“How about we stay here,” Dean nipped at Castiel’s ear, making him jump and whimper, his pants now painfully tight.

“Here?” Castiel asked, now he was really unable to think straight, his blood rushing to his dick.

“Mhm,” Dean hummed, his lips planting firmly below Castiel’s ear, sending shivers throughout Castiel’s entire body. “There’s no one else in here,” he said, pulling away, making Castiel crave his touch once again. Dean’s eyes darted to one of the stalls along the opposite wall then back to Castiel before raising his eyebrows suggestively. 

Castiel wanted to protest, he wanted to say no because he couldn’t help but think about how many other men had the exact same thought in this bathroom- and Castiel wasn’t one of those skeevy guys who fucks a stranger in a club bathroom. But apparently he was because he felt himself eagerly nodding his head, his dick telling him who gives a fuck and he felt himself being dragged towards an empty stall. He and Dean crowded into the stall and Castiel felt himself pushed up against the large metal door, and heard Dean quickly lock the door before he felt a pair of lips crash to his own, all tongue and teeth and desperate and needy.

Castiel moaned into the kiss and threaded his hands through Dean’s short hair, tightening his grip and pulling ever so slightly, drawing a growl-like sound from Dean. Dean’s hands made their way to Castiel’s ass, gripping it forcefully. “Dean,” Castiel gasped for air when Dean bit on his lower lip sharply, grinding his hips forward to make more contact.

Dean felt the pressure between their bodies and drew one hand to the front of Castiel’s pants, rubbing over the bulge begging to be released. His fingers then began to fumble with the button, eager to get the zipper down, while he felt Castiel’s lips attach to his neck. Kissing, licking, nibbling. Dean slipped a hand into Castiel’s pants, his fingers wrapped around his erection, warm and heavy as he began to stroke slowly. Castiel bucked into Dean’s hand and groaned, his breath hot on Dean’s neck, before his hands shot down to Dean’s pants. He didn’t waste any time and dragged the zipper down as fast as he could; Castiel needed to feel him. He grabbed Dean and began stroking him in time with Dean’s own hand. Their lips connected again, pressing together forcefully, one tongue running along the other’s lip before eagerly meeting in their mouths. Their hands began to increase in speed, and they had to pull away from the kiss as their breathing sped up, Castiel buried his head in Dean’s neck as he called out his name, his release happening embarrassingly early. He kept his grip tight around Dean and moments later Dean was spilling out all over Castiel’s hand. 

Dean pulled away to unroll the toilet paper and handed Castiel a wad of it before doing the same for himself. Castiel tossed the wet paper into the toilet after his hand and pants were sufficiently cleaned. Then eyed Dean as he gathered more to clean up Castiel’s mess.

“Sorry, it’s been a while since I-” Castiel said, trailing off at the end of his sentence, feeling a sense of embarrassment that he hadn’t been intimate with another person in so long.

"It's all good," Dean said, finally discarding the used toilet paper and flushing it away. The two zipped their pants and straightened out their clothes before stepping out of the stall into the bathroom that had more patrons in it than before. Castiel flushed a deep shade of red when the man at the sink gave him a wink and a smile as he approached the sink to wash his hands.

"So how 'bout that drink?" Dean asked with a grin on his face as he shook his hands dry.


End file.
